by Sarina Bowen
Not our mom. She was wondering if he was getting enough to eat.
She doesn’t offer me seconds, and I have too much pride to reach for the dish. So I drain the water in my glass and ask to be excused. “I need to open up the garage and find a wrench, okay?” I push my chair back.
“Wait!” she says. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you our news.”
I pause, wary. “Okay. What’s up?”
“We’re starting a handyman business!” she announces, clapping her hands. “I’ll do all the bookings. Joe will go out and do the repairs.”
Holy shit. Because everyone wants to give a felon access to their homes?
It takes colossal willpower to avoid speaking my mind. “That’s great, Ma. Could be good for both of you.” And it’s true that Joe can’t easily find work. If you check that box on an employment application—convicted felon—nobody ever calls you back.
Then again, if he’d thought of that before breaking into homes to steal flat-screen TVs, maybe he wouldn’t be that twenty-six-year-old loser who’s still sponging off Mommy, would he?
I make my move to get up, but Mom puts a hand on my wrist. “Honey, I need a favor. Would you have five hundred dollars you could invest in our business?”
“Invest,” I repeat stupidly. That’s a word you’d use for a nice little mutual fund, maybe. Giving your money to Mom and Joe would be as productive as lighting it on fire.
No, less productive. At least you could roast a marshmallow over the fire.
“Just a loan,” she says. “We have startup costs. We need an extension ladder, and we need to place an ad in the newspaper.”
“Wouldn’t an online ad be cheaper?” I ask before I can stop myself. Business is interesting to me. But I can’t offer to help this sad little venture. I will not be sucked into their issues.
There are so many of those.
“Maybe!” Mom says, gripping my wrist. It’s probably obvious how badly I need to get away.
“I don’t have any extra cash right now,” I say, hopefully ending the conversation. “I’d love to help, but I can’t.”
She blinks at me. And then blinks some more. It’s time for another performance of guilt and tears.
“I owe my fraternity seven hundred bucks on Friday,” I tell her, which is the truth. “And I still need to eat and buy gas for my bike…” I sigh.
“Just this once,” she begs. “Please think about it.”
“Oh, I will.” That comes out sounding darker than I meant it to. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The truth is that if I pick up more extra shifts behind the bar next week, I could loan her the money. But I’ve loaned her money before, and she never pays it back.
Why is that okay? Like, seriously. If she just said it had to be a gift, not a loan, I wouldn’t feel so used when she asks me for money.
I escape to the garage in peace. If I have any luck at all, the rattle my bike is making is just a loose chain. I find my torque wrench and kneel down on the garage floor for a better look.
Sure enough, the tension is off a little. I can do this.
Or maybe I can’t. You need someone’s weight on the bike to get the tension right. Maybe there’s a workaround? I pull out my phone to Google for a solution. Honestly, balancing some bricks on the bike would be easier than asking a family member.
There’s a new message on Kink, so I open it up, because I have no self control. LobsterShorts and I continued to text each other this week. He’s fun to talk to. Our chats always start off random before inevitably turning to sex.
It’s a pattern, I think. Lobster is attracted to me, and probably men in general. But he feels guilty about it. Every time I get him riled up, he disappears for a day or so. Then he always comes back.
LobsterShorts: Today’s animal behavior tidbit is about kangaroos.
There’s a link, so I click it. The screen loads with a video of a kangaroo, all right. And he’s…
Really?
SinnerThree: Is that kangaroo jacking off?
His response comes so quickly that I know he’s been waiting there for me.
LobsterShorts: Of course he is. Did you really think that humans would be the only ones to discover that you can polish your own pole?
SinnerThree: I guess I’ve seen a dog lick his balls. But I thought you needed opposable thumbs to really get freaky.
LobsterShorts: Dolphins will hump an inanimate object. Or occasionally a diver.
SinnerThree: OMG. Humped by a dolphin? GTFO.
I’m sitting on the garage floor cracking up.
LobsterShorts: Lots of primates masturbate, including the females. Bats even jerk it while hanging upside down. And yes, it gets messy.
I’m dead.
“What’s so funny?”
I look up fast as my brother comes around the corner. “Nothing,” I say, hastily texting back. GTG, asshole brother is in my face. Shoving my phone into my pocket, I stand up.
“Look, about the money,” Joe starts.
“That’s what you want to talk to me about? Quelle surprise.” It makes him nutty whenever I remind him that I’m studying French. Or that I’m good at anything, really.
“Look,” he says, not taking the bait. “I got a better idea.”
I can’t wait to hear this.
“You live in that fraternity house, with all those rich kids? All we need is one computer, Lukey. Just one will be worth more than the five hundred bucks that Ma wants.”
My blood pressure quadruples in the span of two seconds. “That’s the worst idea you’ve ever had. All laptops have that app now—find my stuff. The cops would pull up outside your door an hour later. Do you really want to go back to jail?”
“You don’t like my idea?” he sneers. “Then give us the money, you little faggot. We both know you can.”
I try to control my anger. Only my brother would use a hateful slur while trying to convince me to give him cash. “I’m thinking, okay? Do me the world’s easiest favor and sit on the bike. I need to adjust the tension.”
He waits a beat, and I think he’s really so stubborn that he won’t do this small thing for me. But then he throws a leg over and puts his weight on the bike.
Grateful, I sink down and quickly apply the torque wrench to the bolts. “Look, it’s really not like I have five hundred extra dollars. I’d have to work some extra hours. And only if I can get the shifts.”
“So how about you do that?” he says. “If you don’t, I’ll tell Ma what it is you really do for most of your cash, and it ain’t tending bar.”
It’s a good thing he can’t see my face, because I do a poor job of concealing my surprise. How the hell does he know about my job at the club?
I take a deep, slow breath and then call his bluff. “I don’t care if you tell Mom. She doesn’t give a fuck, just as long as she can treat me like an ATM.”
But I’m bluffing, too. I care very much who knows about my job. If Joe told my fraternity brothers, that would be dangerous to my future. If they made a prank out of taking my photo or filming my ass on stage, that shit could wind up on the internet. And if it’s attached to my real name…
I can’t let that happen. Next year I’ll be applying for jobs all over the country. And “male stripper” cannot be the first thing that comes up when someone searches my name.
There’s nothing wrong with dancing. Stripping. Whatever. But I can’t afford to be the punch line of a joke.
“Make it six hundred, then,” Joey says as I fiddle with the bike chain. “One of those C-notes you pass to me privately.”
Fuck you! I want to shout. Fuck you, fuck Mom, fuck this entire fucking planet.
But I don’t.
“Okay,” I say instead.
Like I even have a choice.
Really, Lobsterman?
Luke
Interacting with my family never fails to put me in the foulest of moods, which makes it difficult to concentrate on studying later that night. Eventually I
give up. My paper on economic history can wait until tomorrow. Really, all that’s left to do is tweak a few paragraphs, write the conclusion, and then proofread. If I try doing any of that while my brain isn’t sharp, I’ll end up having to work on it tomorrow anyway.
So I flop down on my bed and open Kink. Chatting with LobsterShorts always boosts my spirits. I click my inbox and grin when I discover a message from him already waiting for me.
LobsterShorts: Woke up this morning and jerked off to a pic of your abs. And then I thought—I’m jerking off to abs? Why hasn’t that bastard sent me a dick pic yet?
I snort out loud. Yup, in all of two seconds, this dude’s managed to get a laugh out of me. In my regular life I’m hardly ever laughing, and if I am, it’s usually sardonically. But Lobster evokes genuine amusement in me. He’s goofy and sexy and this is exactly what I need tonight. Forget about my paper. This is way more fun.
SinnerThree: Um. Why haven’t YOU sent ME a dick pic?
LobsterShorts: You never asked.
Yeah, I never asked because I thought it would send him back into hibernation. But if he’s feeling frisky again, I’m totally here for that. Maybe he’ll let me get him off again in real time.
SinnerThree: Tell you what. Quid pro quo. Dick pics will be exchanged. Also, if your girl’s down for it, I wouldn’t mind seeing some T&A from her.
Since his previous two messages popped up in seconds, the delay I encounter raises my guard a bit. Was my request out of line?
But no, it can’t be. Lobster proposed a three-way, and all I’ve seen of his girl thus far is a photo of her in a bikini. If I’m going to be sleeping with both of them, it would be nice to see pics—of both of them.
And yet not once have you sexted about this supposed three-way…
I stiffen. And not in the southern region of my body. My shoulders draw up tight as I let the unsettling thought sink in.
LobsterShorts: Let me see what I can do.
The vague response brings a frown to my lips. Something’s bugging me. Maybe my suspicions are completely ludicrous, but I can’t stop myself from asking a blunt question.
SinnerThree: Is there really a gf, Lobsterman?
This time, the long delay doesn’t surprise me. In fact, I’m convinced it might be more evidence to support my doubts. Lobster hardly ever mentions his girlfriend. Yes, his profile picture depicts two people, one of whom is clearly a hot chick. And I don’t think it’s a Photoshop job or anything—I’m sure he did have a girlfriend at one point. Or hell, maybe he still does and it’s only the threesome that’s bogus.
But I’m getting the sense that this guy doesn’t want me to fuck him and his girl. He wants me to fuck him. Period.
LobsterShorts: Sorry. I’m confused. I do have a gf—I wouldn’t lie about that. I don’t understand why you think I would?
I decide to tread carefully. Because at the end of the day, I like chatting with him. I’m not ready to lose this connection yet. But I also don’t have time for games.
SinnerThree: It’s just that you never bring her up during our chats.
His response pops up as I’m still typing.
LobsterShorts: That’s not true. One time I said she’d like watching us.
SinnerThree: Right. You did say that. But…you don’t include her in these virtual fuck sessions. If there’s a threesome in the cards for us, shouldn’t we discuss how the third member of this endeavor fits in?
LobsterShorts: Of course you have a point. I thought we were still trying to figure out whether I can handle dude sex without screaming and running out the door.
SinnerThree: Babe. I think we established that after our first convo. You won’t run out the door. Screaming…maybe ;) Actually, more like moaning. Loudly.
LobsterShorts: Someone’s sure of themselves.
SinnerThree: Yes. I am. But anyway…yeah. I’m not worried about whether or not you’ll enjoy my presence. Now I’m concerned about how you’ll react to me being around your girl.
LobsterShorts: What do you mean?
SinnerThree: I mean, I’m going to touch her, you realize that, right?
LobsterShorts: Obvs.
Another frown reaches my lips. There’s something very cavalier about how he responded to that. I can’t figure out if he’s putting on a front, acting like he’s not bothered by the idea of his girlfriend sleeping with someone else. Or if he truly doesn’t give a shit.
SinnerThree: I’m going to kiss her. I’m going to have my mouth on her tits, on her clit. My dick may be inside her.
LobsterShorts: Well aware of that.
Is he being snippy? That sounded defensive. Fuck, I really wish it were easier to read tone via text messages.
LobsterShorts: That’s the whole point of a threeway, Sinner. You’ll be touching her, I’ll be touching her. You’ll be touching me, she and I will be touching you.
SinnerThree: And you’re perfectly okay with all of that?
LobsterShorts: Would I be on this app otherwise?
I try to figure out the best way to respond, but as I’m crafting the words, he pushes back again.
LobsterShorts: Why else would I be on this app?
SinnerThree: A lot of bi-curious guys, or closeted gay guys, use apps like Kink to act out the fantasies they can’t act on in real life. Which is fine. Sexting is sexting. I don’t care why someone is on here. I guess what I’m saying is—if you were one of those curious dudes and there was no girlfriend, I would be cool with that and there’d be no need for pretenses.
LobsterShorts: There’s a girlfriend. I promise.
SinnerThree: K.
LobsterShorts: Are you disappointed by that? Lmao I honestly can’t tell.
Am I? I can’t fully decipher whatever’s tugging on my stomach. I like talking to this guy. It’s easy. And clearly we’re sexually compatible, at least on paper. But I also swiped on his profile because at the time, I really was in the mood for a three-way. I enjoy fucking women. I enjoy it a lot. And I can’t deny that his girl has a fire body that turns me on just as much as his does.
SinnerThree: No disappointment on my end. I’m dying to put my mouth on both of you.
LobsterShorts: That so?
SinnerThree: Yup. Your girl has phenomenal tits. Are they as sexy under that bikini top as they look in it?
LobsterShorts: Yup. Perky, a perfect handful. Dark pink nipples, and they get so hard when she’s horny.
SinnerThree: How long have you been together? If you don’t mind me asking.
In the back of my mind, it occurs to me that I’m shifting away from the topic of sex, but the question was biting at my tongue, and I had to type it. I wouldn’t mind getting a sense of their relationship before I throw myself into the mix.
LobsterShorts: Years. Since high school.
SinnerThree: She the only girl you’ve ever slept with?
LobsterShorts: Yeah. And I assume you’ve slept with hundreds?
SinnerThree: Hundreds? Are you crazy?
SinnerThree: More like thousands… ;)
LobsterShorts: Eye roll.
SinnerThree: All seriousness, I’ve fucked a lot of women. More women than men, tbh.
LobsterShorts: Huh. I find that surprising.
SinnerThree: Why’s that?
LobsterShorts: Because you sound so confident about this guy-on-guy action. You talk as if you’ve done it countless times.
SinnerThree: Well, I mean, I have. Just not as much as with chicks.
LobsterShorts: Which do you like better? Men or women?
SinnerThree: That’s a loaded question. It’s two very different kinds of experiences.
LobsterShorts: Have you been in any long-term relationships, guy or girl?
SinnerThree: Dated a girl in high school for one year. And a guy for two months freshman year of college.
LobsterShorts: Was there a preference there?
SinnerThree: Not really. Sometimes it’s easier talking to a guy, though. I’m not saying men aren’t as e
motional as women—obviously we have emotions. But I feel like deep conversations with chicks are sometimes harder. Like, they expect me to read their minds, or to feel the same way they feel in reaction to certain situations.
LobsterShorts: Ikr? My gf expects me to know what she’s thinking and feeling at all times. Granted, we’ve been together for so long that I pretty much do lmao
SinnerThree: Ha!
LobsterShorts: But it’s true—she’s not the easiest to talk to. Like, she thinks every problem has one solution, and that isn’t always the case. Sometimes there are many solutions, and you need to analyze each one before deciding the course of action.
SinnerThree: I keep forgetting you’re a boring scientist. Is your gf a science nerd too?
LobsterShorts: Nah. She’s nowhere close to being as cool as I am.
SinnerThree: Eye roll times two.
LobsterShorts: She’s very cool. She’s smart, outspoken, feisty when you poke at her. You’ll like her.
I hesitate only for a beat before typing, And I assume, you love her?
LobsterShorts: Yup.
No hesitation on his part. Except then he follows it up with, She’s my best friend. We’ve been together for ages.
SinnerThree: How does she feel about this threeway thing?
LobsterShorts: It was her idea, remember? Her bday request.
SinnerThree: Right, I know. I mean, how does she feel about a threeway with ME. You’ve told her about me, right?
LobsterShorts: Um.
My eyebrows fly up. Is he joking? He hasn’t told the third member of our threesome about the dude he’s been sexting with for nearly two weeks now?
LobsterShorts: Before you jump to conclusions—it’s not because of that thing you said before, about bi-curious guys and fake girlfriends. She’s real. She’s the best. And I haven’t told her about you yet because up until now I was still sort of, I dunno, “vetting” you. She means a lot to me, and I don’t want just any guy being intimate with her, you know?
Everything he says makes total sense.
And yet…I don’t believe him.
I carefully ask, Okay. When do you plan on telling her about me? When are the three of us doing this thing?
